


The Pharaoh´s wrath

by NYWCgirl



Category: White Collar
Genre: Alternate universe Ancient Egypt/Rome/Germania, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-19
Updated: 2015-11-19
Packaged: 2018-05-02 09:31:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5243270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NYWCgirl/pseuds/NYWCgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peter is visiting Egypt on a diplomatic trip and encounters the most priced slave of the Pharaoh. He never imagined how his life would change when someone from his party tries to murder the pharaoh.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Pharaoh´s wrath

**Author's Note:**

> This story was written for the White Collar Big Bang 2015 and fills the ´Crucifixion´ square on my H/C bingo card.  
> The characters are younger than in canon, as most people died around 40 in ancient Egypt.
> 
> The wonderful cover is made by Slytheringurrl - http://killthespecter.tumblr.com/post/133630689771/the-pharoahs-wrath-by-nywcgirl

 

 

 

 

“Time to wake up Naeia.”

Neal woke up when his servant entered his room and called out to him.

“Good morning, Ahmes.”

He yawned and stretched. His bed servant Armanra left his bed without saying anything. She was never her lovely self in the morning, so Neal kept his mouth shut.

He tossed the linen sheet aside and got up. He was still yawning while following his personal servant to be readied for the coming day. He stepped into the room adjacent to his bedroom, so Ahmes could wash him. After he was freshened up, he sat down on a stool, presenting his face, so he could be shaved. After he was done, his skin was rubbed with perfumed oil and Neal was handed his kilt. He completed his dressing with a pair of leather sandals.

“Do I have specific duties today, Ahmes?”

“No master. Breakfast is served in the courtyard.”

“Good, I will work on the paintings then.”

“The Pharaoh and his wife will not join the family for breakfast today.”

They walked to the courtyard and Neal noticed that the pharaoh´s sons were already there, his daughters would probably arrive soon, it always took them more time to get ready. He sat down on the cushions that were provided and ate some bread and dates. One of the boys, Menkhaf, brought one of his monkeys, he knew the monkey was not allowed at the breakfast table, but since their parents were not there, none of the servants dared saying anything. Neal laughed when the monkey chose his dates to steal.

“What are you working on, Neal?” Ahmose Inhapi asked.

“Well, I will start the paint work on our great pharaoh´s tomb. But I first have to get more pigments, we do not have enough, so I have to take care of that first. Therefore I will go into to the Royal workshops today.”

“Can I come?” one of the boys asked.

“Yes, you can, it will be good to see what pigments to use for the paintings. You can help me later to prepare the paints if you want.” Neal laughed, when the boy looked victorious to his brother. “Get ready, I will ask the guards to accompany us.”

Neal knew better than to go out alone, let alone with the son of the Pharaoh. They always needed to be accompanied by armed guards if they left the rooms of the palace.

Neal watched the boys play in the grass while eating. Neal didn´t remember his own family. He was told by the wife of the Pharaoh that he was sold to them by his father, but because of his striking blue eyes and fair skin, she had told her husband that he was a gift from Aton and that they needed to keep him in their family.

He could remember that in the beginning, he felt all alone in the palace, there were no children to play with as the Pharaoh had not yet conceived and the palace was enormous. He was lonely and always cried when they placed him in his bedroom. The Pharaoh´s wife took pity in him and let him sleep with them. After that night he never left their bed. If there were occasions when they wanted to be alone, a bed servant would sleep with him.

But the life in the palace was lonely and one day he had picked up a piece of papyrus from the office of his Master and had started painting on it. When the pharaoh found the painting later that night, he had asked his wife which artist had made it, as he wanted to contract him to decorate the palace. She had only smiled fondly of their boy slave and had pointed to him. The Pharaoh had asked Neal to draw some animals and Neal had done so, and with doing so, he was ensured of a life of luxury in the palace. Even as a slave, he was treated better than any nobleman he knew. He grew up in the Pharaoh´s family but knew his place in the household.

When he grew up, the Pharaoh hadn´t missed Neal physical beauty, nor had his wife. He was their most prized slave, the color of his eyes and his fair skin made him an oddity in their kingdom. And once he became of age, he was introduced into their love life. Not that he didn´t know about these things, as he had been present while they had sex. They always waited until he slept, or so they thought. But Neal was very physical and he enjoyed night time he was allowed with them. Both Pharaoh and wife were pleased with their slave and Neal reveled in the attention. The Pharaoh had made sure that Neal was trained by the best servants to be able to fulfill his Masters´ whishes.

 

* * *

 

“Neal!”

Neal turned and watched the pharaoh´s wife walking towards him. He quickly walked up to her and bowed.

“Yes Mistress? How can I serve you?”

“The Pharaoh is hosting a banquette form some important Roman guests tomorrow, he wants you to attend as the rest of the family is also summoned. Your servant will provide you with a wig and clothing. Make sure you are in time. I know how you can get absorbed in your art.”

“Of course, if it pleases my Pharaoh, I will be present.” Neal bowed and watched her walk away. These Romans had to be important guests, if she warned him. The family liked hosting parties, but he was not always required to join. Only the most important guests were allowed to meet the entire family and staff.

Neal walked to the palace gardens to look for some shade under the trees to draw. His work for the day was finished and he had some free time before dinner.

 

* * *

 

The next day, after overseeing the paintings that were made in the Pharaoh´s tomb, Neal left early to be groomed for the party. He attended banquettes on a regular basis, but if the pharaoh entertained foreign guests, it was always more elaborate.

He chucked off his dusty clothes and walked into his washroom where two servants poured water jugs over him. One of the servants rubbed a cream into his skin to clean off the dirt and dust. Neal could smell the lime of which it was made, it smelled nice and fresh. He washed his hair and sat down to be shaven, as this was an important banquette, his arms and legs were also shaven. He was glad he didn´t have much body hair, so the job didn´t take too long. He dried himself off while walking back to his room; not surprised that the pharaoh´s Head of the manicurists was waiting for him.

“Let me see your hands please.”

Neal showed him his hands. He just tsjkked and called in a manicurists. “Take care of Neal´s hands, will you.”

Neal had a smile on his face when the girl entered with her tools, the Head addressed him. “You should take better care of your nails, all that paint is bad for them.” With that said he left the room and Neal sat down and gave his right hand to the girl.

“Ahmes, did my Master sent a wig for me?” Neal asked his personal servant.

“Yes, he did Master, but I will first apply your make up. The Pharaoh gave me specific instructions.”

“Did he? He must entertain very important guests than. Well, go one.”

The servant took out a small jar with kohl and some wooden sticks and started applying it to Neal´s eyes. When he was done, he brought in a mirror to show his work. Neal didn´t have the pleasure of his own mirror, it was only brought in on special occasions as it was made of polished silver, so Neal took the opportunity to study himself.

His eyes were even bluer with the black kohl around them, the black line extended in a line to the side of his face. His lips and cheeks were painted with red ochre and his nails were colored with Henna, as the manicurist couldn´t remove all the paints, so she had chosen to paint them with henna instead.

As he was a slave, his hair was not clean shaven like the rest of the boys in the family, who only had one braided lock. They did however always cut his hair short, but he liked it that way. The servant came back with an elaborate wig made out of black human hair and decorated with beads made out of gold, lapus lazuli and turquoise. Neal never liked wearing a wig, it was heavy and warm, but as a slave he had no saying in the etiquette of the court. When his Master told him to wear something, he would wear it, there was no discussion.

Next, the servant brought in a kilt made out of transparent linen, Neal stood in awe, this was the most expensive kilt he had ever seen and worn for that matter, fabric this delicate was only used to dress the Pharaoh and his wife. He let his hand slide over the precious garment in his hand and studied it, there was delicate beadwork on the hem. Even the leather sandals had matching beadwork.

When he was dressed, Ahmes told him to hold his head still and he placed earrings in his ears. His ears had been pierced the moment he was sold to the Pharaoh. He didn´t see what earrings he had been given, but probably something to ward off evil spirits. Next came the rings, bangles and anklets, they were all made of gold and decorated with blue gems. Only the Pharaoh wore silver, the most precious metal.

And finally, a wesekh was placed around his neck. It was also made of gold and inlaid with lapis lazuli and turquoise. The Pharaoh had a weakness for Neal´s blue eyes and pale skin and he made sure to preserve his most priced slave. Neal was not allowed in the sun without protection and his eyes were protected from the glare of the sun by make up during the day. People who saw Neal´s eyes were in awe with them as the color blue was reminiscent of the heavens.

Ready to go to the banquette, Neal was shown to the main courtyard, where he could hear music playing. When he arrived, he saw that most of the family was already present and he quickly made his way over to the Pharaoh who was talking to one of his priests.

“Master?” Neal bowed to his King.

“Ah, Naeia, good of you to join us.”

Neal could just withhold himself from rolling with his eyes. Like he had a choice to come.

“Anything to serve my Master.”

“How are the paintings coming along?

“They are progressing as planned, and My Master will be very pleased.” Neal looked all excited when he spoke of his art and the Pharaoh smiled at him.

“It pleases me that you like what you do.”

“Oh, I would do anything for my Master.”

Neal heard a snort next to him, it was the priest. Neal ignored him, he knew better than to contradict Mozzie. Mozes was his real name, he was a foreign slave who had received refuse in the temple and who had become a priest. Because of his wisdom, he was one of the Pharaoh´s favorite priests. He was always good in entertaining guests with his stories. But he didn´t approve of Neal´s relationship with his Masters. Mozzie always told him that it was not right. Neal should look for a partner of his own, and not as the sex slave of the Pharaoh and his wife. But that was not how Neal felt. He liked them and he liked his life. It was the only life he knew.

“I heard Master expects foreign guests?” Neal inquired. He was anxious to hear who would visit them and why, but he knew better than to ask a direct question. His Master would tell him if he wanted to.

“You will see in due time. I have summoned for our guests, they will be here any moment know.”

 

* * *

 

Most of the guests and family sat down on the stools and cushions. Neal sat next to the left of his Master on a big cushion. He was petting the Mau that sat next to him. She was a gorgeous light gray cat with darker grey spots. Once Neal started playing with her, she lay on her back and pawed at him. So Neal hadn´t paid attention that the Pharaoh´s guests had arrived.

“Naeia, manners!” he heard the Pharaoh hiss. He looked up and stared right in a pair of brown friendly eyes. Neal immediately lowered his eyes and apologized.

“No offense taken, I have a pet myself, I know how they can draw your attention.” The foreigner said in Greek.

Neal apologized again in Greek to the man with his eyes lowered.

“No need to apologize, my name is Peter. What is your name?”

Neal looked up and saw the man´s face change. He was not sure what he saw, but he could see that Peter was pleasantly surprised.

“Like my Master said, it is Naeia, but you can call me Neal.”

“Nice to meet you Neal.” Peter turned away and gave his attention back to the Pharaoh.

Neal looked at the man, he was big, compared to the other Romans. He was wearing a white woolen toga like most well to do Romans did; he was clean shaven, short brown hair, which seemed odd, as most of the man had darker hair. His sandals were made of red leather with some ornament on the back. He didn´t wear any jewelry except for one gold ring. He didn´t gave the impression that he was a delegate, more a warrior.

The Pharaoh invited the guest to sit next to him, so in reality he sat next to Neal. Once Peter sat next to Neal, he couldn´t keep his eyes of him. It made Neal uncomfortable and it must have shown, because Peter cleared his throat and addressed the Pharaoh.

The dinner went on and it was warm in the palace. Peter looked around to see if he was the only one who was hot, but he saw most of the guests sweat.

Peter flinched when a servant placed a scented piece of wax on his head, and he took it off his head. One of the lesser Romans, probably an advisor, whispered something in his ear and he looked at the piece of wax and placed it back.

“Does the scent not please you, Master?” Neal inquired.

“No, sorry, it is the first time I experience it and … my apologies, I did not know it was a custom among your people.”

“The wax will melt and give a nice scent and it will cool your head, but I guess, since you do not wear a wig, it is not as hot as it is for us.”

“It is OK, really.”

The food was brought in and servants with wine and beer poured their cups full. Neal noticed that Peter only drank beer, while most of the royal family and Neal himself drank wine.

“You do not like wine?”

“I drink it, but I like beer better. Where I come from, we mostly drink beer.”

 

 

* * *

 

The Banquette went on until the early hours of the night. Peter had enough time to study his hosts. The pharaoh and his wife were even more elaborately dressed than Neal. They were a good looking couple and they presented themselves as the gods they were supposed to be. He couldn´t quite make out the relationship between Neal and the Pharaoh. He was not a child, that much was sure, there was no resemblance.

Peter had also noticed that Neal was tattooed, which was odd, as the rest of the family didn´t have any tattoos. Only Neal was tattooed. His left ankle had an intricate pattern, which looked like hawk wings, but Peter was not sure. He could also see the obvious affection Neal was given by both the Pharaoh and his wife, there was a bound of some sort.

Peter should have guessed that the dinner would run into the early hours, the royal family planned their own day and they would probably sleep in. By the time he could excuse himself he was exhausted. He was shown to his chambers by a servant he just caught a glimpse of the pharaoh and his wife leaving the room, Neal was walking with them. Maybe Neal was some sort of concubine? He definitely had the looks for it.

He quickly took of his toga. The heat was sweltering, but luckily during the night a breeze had set in.

How these people could wear wigs in temperatures like this was beyond Peter. On the other hand, they only wore a kilt, that must be less hot than his toga that covered him completely. When he would get up in a couple of hours he would just wear a tunic, that should be better. He wished he could freshen up, but he didn´t want to ask the servants to bring him water this late, so he just got into the bed. A wooden bed had never felt so good. Now that he thought about it, it was quite comfortable, only he wooden head rest was not something he wanted to use all night, so he put it next to the bed. Strange people these Egyptians.

He almost fell asleep immediately.

 

_There was a young man playing with a cat on the floor when he walked into the room. He had paid his respect to the Pharaoh but the boy hadn´t seen him. When he was reprimanded by the Pharaoh, the boy looked up and Peter stared in the bluest eyes he had seen in a very long time. They were the same shade as his wife and… they were gorgeous, you could drown in those puddles._

_“Make our guest comfortable, boy.”_

_The boy kneeled before him keeping his eyes lowered._

_“How can I be of service, Master?” the boy said submissive._

 

Peter woke with a jolt. By Mars, had he been dreaming that? That didn´t happen. Why would he dream something like that?

Peter realized why, he missed El, he hadn´t seen her for almost a year now. He really needed to finish this trip and go back home. He had done his fair share for Rome.

He got up out of bed and walked over to the table in his room, he took the figurine that stood on the table in his hand and smiled. He missed his wife. He put it back in a leather pouch to protect it and walked over to the window. The sun was rising and there was already quite some people out and working. He quickly walked out to see if he could freshen up.

When he arrived in the gardens he could see a couple of people in what looked like a water basin, they were definitely bathing, but could he join them?

“PETER!” someone shouted.

Peter looked closer and started walking towards the stream. It was a young man, he had short hair, different from all the others who were shaved bald. Not until he came closer, did he recognize the blue eyes. Neal!

“You are Naeia, if I remembered correct.” Peter smiled.

“Yes Master, but again, you can call me Neal.”

“I didn´t recognize you without the wig and makeup.” Peter looked in awe at Neal, the boy looked even more beautiful without all the makeup. He was pale compared to the other Egyptians, enforcing Peter´s believe that he was not native to Egypt.

“Ah, well, it is our couture, I saw you are quite no nonsense, I only saw you wear one ring and no makeup. Do you not wear jewelry where you come from?” Neal was intrigued.

“No, we were jewelry, but not as elaborate as you do here in Egypt, I am not much of a jewelry or couture man.”

Neal nodded in understanding.

“Can you please tell me where I can freshen up.”

“You could have asked the servants in your room, they would have brought in water to wash you.”

“I prefer doing it myself.”

“Join us here in the bath, you can freshen up.”

Peter glanced around but nobody was really paying attention to him, so he shed his tunic and stepped in the cool water. He could see Neal studying him. But Peter was not self conscious, not after having served in the army for 10 years. The water was so refreshing, Peter sighed. After having spent weeks on the road on his horse, he was glad to have arrived in Egypt. It was more amazing than he had thought. Peter had heard stories, but this was more than he had imagined. Their ways and customs were very different than he had expected.

He was a bit lost in his thoughts, when he heard Neal say something.

“Excuse me?”

“I have to go Peter, but I will see you tonight at dinner.”

“What are your plans for today?” Peter asked.

“I oversee the painting of the Pharaoh´s tomb. And I am decorating one of the rooms in the palace.” Neal smiled shyly.

“You are an artist?” Peter said in wonder.

“Yes, you could call me that.”

“Don´t let me keep you.” Peter said before he dived underwater.

When Peter immersed, Neal had left the water and a slave was handing him his quilt. Peter couldn’t stop himself admiring Neal´s pale, slightly muscular build body. Another slave was holding a big parasol above him to shield him from the sun. Neal sat down on a stool and make up was applied to his eyes. When he through a glance over his shoulder, Peter swallowed. The boy had mesmerizing eyes, and with the black kohl on his eyes, Peter felt he couldn´t look away.

Neal smiled, waved and walked off, followed by the slaves.

“He is gorgeous, isn´t he?” Peter startled. He turned and saw the Pharaoh´s wife standing near the water, she was already dressed and looked beautiful.

“I hadn´t noticed.” Peter lied.” But the color of his eyes reminds me of my wife´s.”

“You are married?”

Peter could hear the surprise in her voice.

“Yes, I am. Her name is Elizabeth and she has the same color of eyes as Neal´s.” Peter smiled at the memory.

“You miss her.”

“Yes, I miss her very much.”

“Do you want one of the slave girls or boys?”

Peter must have glared at her, because she apologized herself for not being familiar with the ways of his people and walked away. Great, now he had offended the Pharaoh´s wife. The day had started well.

He got out of the bath and a slave walked up to him with a cloth to dry himself off. He was also handed a vial with some nice smelling oil. He rubbed it on his skin and put his tunic back on.

He walked back to look in on his men and his horse. He was assured that it was well cared for, but still, he wanted to check it out himself. He asked one of the servants where the stables were and was given directions. When he entered the stables, he saw some fines horses, the pharaoh had impressive animals. He verified that his horse was well taken care for and had enough food and water. When he came back outside, he saw a couple of his men reclining under the shade of a porch and walked up to them. They exchanged some small talk and then left his men, when they told him they were going to a tavern.

What was Neal doing? Wait, he had said that he was working on the Pharaoh´s tomb. Maybe he could have a look. Maybe it would flatter the pharaoh if he asked to see it. He had to think about it.

Peter had been warned that the Pharaoh would not come to business immediately, so Peter tried to relax and recuperate from the long journey. It had taken weeks to get here and there had been some close calls with bandits along the way. Peter was glad he traveled with men who knew how to defend themselves.

A servant came to inform him that the pharaoh expected him tonight for dinner. Peter accepted the invitation and went back to his room to freshen up after a day in the sweltering heat of summer in Egypt.

 

* * *

 

Peter was praying with his statue in his hand when Neal walked in on him.

“I´m sorry Master, but the pharaoh asks if you can join us for the hunt.”

“What are you hunting?”

“Fox and hyenas.”

“Do I bring my horse?”

“That won´t be necessary. The pharaoh has provided chariots. If you join us, I will ride with you, if you don´t mind.”

“Tell your master it will be my pleasure to join you.”

Peter returned to his statue.

“May I ask what you are doing?” Neal asked shyly.

“I am praying to my gods for the well being of my wife.” Peter explained.

“Is that her?” Neal pointed at the little statue in Peter´s hand.

“Yes, the statue was damaged in battle, but yes, this is my wife.”

“It was damaged in battle?”

“Yes, she saved me, the dagger hit the statue and saved me from serious injury. So my wife saved me even if she was not there.” Peter smiled at the memory.

Peter saw Neal studying the statue in his hand. Neal looked, well for lack of a better word, shy.

“It would be an honor to make you a new statue. If you describe her to me, I can do it.” He finally said quietly.

“Could you?” Peter was not sure.

“Yes, come see me tonight after dinner, I will bring my supplies and will make you a new one, I cannot repair this one. I will now make the chariot ready for the hunt, please meet me at the stables.”

With that, Neal left and Peter finished his prayer and left for the stables.

 

* * *

 

The hunt had been excellent. They had caught four hyenas and several foxes. It had been exhilarating. Peter was used to hunting on his horse or on foot, but he had never tried it from a chariot. It turned out that shooting a bow from a chariot was surprisingly easy. The chariot was a stable platform and Neal had turned out to be quite the charioteer. He maneuvered the two horses with an ease that had Peter surprised. Neal wasn´t a real physical guy and Peter knew who much strength it cost to keep the horses in reign.

Now that it had come to an end, Peter had made his way to his chambers to freshen up before dinner and Neal had led the horses to the stable.

They met again at dinner. The Pharaoh and his wife were not present as they had other guests to attend to. Peter was glad with the down time, with them not present, the ambiance was more relaxed. Neal passed the bread, cucumbers and fish and they had a pleasant meal recalling stories from the hunt to the others who were joining them for dinner.

When they were finished, Neal asked Peter to accompany him to a part of the palace were there was shade and cushions to sit on.

“Describe your wife to me.” He asked softly.

Peter could see that Neal had picked up a piece of ivory and a knife. So he started describing El, telling Neal how she moved, and laughed and how her hair waved in the wind. When the sun set and it started to get dark, he asked Neal if he could see the statue, but Neal said it wasn´t finished and quickly wrapped it with a piece of linen.

He said goodnight to Peter and quickly left for his room. Peter gazed at the stars for some time and then also went back to his room;

 

* * *

 

Peter didn´t see Neal the next four days. When he inquired with the slaves where Neal was, they told him he was performing his duties in the tomb.

Peter was intrigued at Neal´s work in the tomb, but he knew he wouldn´t be allowed in. So he went in search of the rooms in the castle that Neal had painted.

While walking through the palace, he encountered Mozzie. They talked to each other, Mozzie inviting Peter for some excellent wine tasting. Peter inquired about Neal and was surprised to learn that Neal was a slave.

“Haven´t you noticed the tattoo, Roman?”

“On his ankle, yes, so?”

“The tattoo marks him as a slave. I know Romans give their slaves facial tattoos, but we don´t. We find it is a bad habit the Greeks brought to Rome, they have it from the Persians. It is not civilized to mark someone in their face.”

“But the other slaves don´t have tattoos.” Peter stated.

“No, as they are expendable and easily sold. Neal is a prized slave; the Pharaoh wants everybody to know about his claim on Neal. Hence the tattoo. It makes him the Pharaoh´s prized slave.”

Peter had noticed that Neal called him Master and that Neal didn´t have the customary braid that males of the royal family had. But since Neal was always with the Royal family, he guessed that he was some sort or noble born person.

“But I saw him wearing gold jewelry and expensive tunics. He was better dressed than some of the other guests.” Peter exclaimed.

Mozzie explained to Peter that Neal had been sold by his father, who wasn´t Egyptian, hence the blue eyes and fair skin. His father was in debt and as his son was blessed with such beauty, even as a childe he sold him to the Pharaoh. His wife had seen Neal as a gift from the gods and therefore, even as a slave, Neal was treated like royalty. His artistic talents had only heightened the Pharaoh´s esteem for Neal.

Peter left Mozzie with even more questions in his mind that when he had first seen Neal. When he arrived in the part of the palace where his chambers were, Neal was waiting for him.

“Peter!” Neal called out.

“Hi Neal, were you looking for me?”

“Yes, I finished the statue.” Neal opened his hand and in it was the most beautiful statue Peter had ever seen. This was an exact replica of Elizabeth. He gently took it out of Neal´s hand and he just stared at it. He had to swallow around the lump that formed in his throat.

“Does it look like your wife?” Neal asked a bit uncertain.

“Neal, how did you do this? This is Elizabeth. Her hair, her face. I don´t know what to say.”

Neal smiled shyly and turned to leave.

“WAIT!.” Peter said harsher than he intended.

Peter could see Neal tense up.

“Wait, sorry, I didn´t mean it like that. Neal, this is amazing, I can´t thank you enough. Let me pay you.”

“No!” Neal said loudly. “I am not allowed to have possessions. It makes me happy that the statue pleases you.”

“But what do you want in return?”

“Nothing. It was a pleasure to make it for you. I´m happy that the statue does your wife justice and that you like it.”

“Like it? I… I will cherish this forever.”

“You are welcome. And Peter, you have a beautiful wife, you make a gorgeous couple.”

Neal quickly turned around and walked away leaving Peter staring at the little ivory statue in his hand. Neal was a more gifted artist than Peter had ever imagined. The boy stirred something in him, Peter knew that he shouldn´t think of him in that way. He was property of the Pharaoh. And the Pharaoh was a man not to mess around with.

 

* * *

 

One of the Romans in Peter´s party, a man named Mattheus Keller, had been talking with Neal about his arts. Neal hadn´t noticed that he only did it when Peter was not in the vicinity. He was friendly and seemed interested in Neal´s work, but still Neal got a bad feeling from the guy. However, since he was a guest of his Master, he stayed polite and friendly.

After a couple of days, he asked Neal if he would see the paintings Neal was making in the palace up close. Neal had been happy to show the visitor and invited him up the wooden scaffolding. Mattheus had been impressed with Neal´s paintings and from then on he visited Neal more regularly.

Mattheus had climbed the scaffolding that afternoon and was looking down. Neal had noticed that the man was more interested in what was going on downstairs than what Neal was painting. But as long as the man left him to his work, he didn´t say anything. After a while Neal noticed Mattheus had a predatory smile when he ogled Neal and he was getting uncomfortable. He made a mental note to task Peter about him.

The man was still admiring his work when the palace guards announced the arrival of the Pharaoh. Neal didn´t look away from his work. He was used to his Master visiting him and checking on his progress. So he didn´t notice Mattheus getting ready for something.

Suddenly a large piece of stone that was used as a counter weight fell down. Neal saw the stone drop and could only yell at his master to get out of the way.

When everyone had settled, the Pharaoh looked up and there was Neal staring back in shock at him. He was frozen to the spot.

After the pharaoh realized he could have been killed, he ordered Neal down. As soon as he reached the ground, he was grabbed by two guards and escorted away. Two other guards climbed the scaffolding but there was nobody there.

 

* * *

 

News of the attempted murder travelled fast in the palace and it also reached the Roman delegates. Once Peter learned that Neal had been accused of the attempted murder, he hurried towards the scaffolding. This didn´t sound like Neal.

He could see the counter weight that was still lying on the stone floor. When he climbed the scaffolding, he saw a small piece of linen. When he took it and studied it he could see it was a piece of Roman tunic. Somebody else had been up here. A Roman somebody.

Neal was framed. He needed to speak to the Pharaoh.

It didn´t take Peter long to find him.

“It is good to see you are alright your highness.” Peter greeted.

“Thank you for your concern. May I ask why you are here?”

“I was informed about the accident, but my men couldn´t give me details.”

“This was no accident, it was a murder attempt.”

“What happened?”

“Naeia tried to kill me.”

“He wouldn´t do that.” Peter exclaimed.

The Pharaoh just gave him a surprised look.

“I am sorry, but I learned Neal to be a non-violent person, he wouldn´t hurt a fly, he didn´t even use the whip on the horses during the hunt. I am a soldier, I know a violent man when I see one.”

“Sometimes men do desperate things.”

“What will happen to him?” Peter asked.

“He is been taken care of, it is of no concern to you.”

“But he didn´t do anything. I have a suspicion that someone in my party attempted to kill you and I cannot apologize enough for that.”

“I know you were not involved, otherwise you wouldn´t be standing here.” The pharaoh explained. “But I cannot have my own slave be used against me. Even if he didn´t executed the attempt himself, he let himself used and he didn´t protect his God. I need to set an example.”

It was clear the pharaoh was not used to be spoken back to, he was getting annoyed.

Peter looked in desperation to the pharaoh. Whatever they had planned for Neal, it couldn´t be good.

“Come, join me for lunch.” The pharaoh commanded.

Peter thought it wise not to antagonize the pharaoh any further, so he followed him to the shade, where slaves were already waiting for them. Peter almost couldn´t contain his unease, and was glad when one of his men approached them. He answered he man´s question and asked to check if he could find out what had happened to the pharaoh´s slave.

As soon as they were done, Peter excused himself and went out to go look for Neal. Nobody would tell Peter anything, until he went back to his room. He asked the slave that was assigned to him where his men were and he told Peter where he could find them.

“I overheard that you were looking for Naeia. He can be found in the back of the palace gardens.”

“Thank you.”

Peter ran towards the palace gardens where he found Neal.

He stopped in horror…

 

He was appalled, Neal had been whipped, but that wasn´t even the worst of his ordeal.

Neal had been crucified.

It was a cruel and slow death and certainly not one that the Neal had deserved. He was tied to a stake in the sweltering sun and Neal could already see that his skin was sunburned, being fair of complexion and always being shielded from the sun, had made him an easy target for sun burn. Peter could see that Neal was already in a bad shape, he was hanging limply in his leather restraints, his eyes closed and his breathing was labored. Peter could see that he had vomited. His skin was completely dry which was odd in this heat. He was definitely suffering from heat stroke. Peter had seen it before in his days in the army. Soldiers who had to fight too long in the sun, experience headaches and they stopped sweating which mend that they were severely dehydrated.

He needed to do something, he couldn´t let Neal die here on a stake. This boy had too much to live for and it was not even his fault. He didn´t have anything to do with the murder attempt. He had been used by an individual in Peter´s party.

His mind set, Peter quickly walked back to the palace to talk to the pharaoh.

 

* * *

 

Before Neal could react or respond to the accusation, he had been dragged off, and after having been whipped by the pharaoh´s guards, he was tied to a stake. The leather strips had been wet when they had bound his wrists and ankles to the stake and when they dried up, they tightened, and there was no way Neal could get loose on his own.

He tried to keep his mind from thinking of the lashes he had received. His back hurt and stung from where his sweat trickled in the open wounds on his back.

Soon, Neal experienced a throbbing headache with a distracting light-headedness. He was thirsty, really thirsty, but he guessed that was part of the punishment. He still thought they would only leave him here until he had learned his lesson. But when the heat picked up, Neal could feel his skin burning. He was not used to the sun directly on his skin as the Pharaoh had always wanted to preserve his fair skin.

He couldn´t really remember why he was here. Why didn´t anyone noticed that he was thirsty and in pain?

That was odd, he could taste honey, but his mouth was dry, so how did he… Neal never felt himself have the seizure before he fell unconscious.

 

* * *

 

When a servant informed Peter that the Pharaoh was not available, he ran to the temple, where he found Mozzie in the shade of some trees.

“You were informed about what happened?”

“No, what happened?”

“Someone tried to kill the Pharaoh and framed Neal for it. I guess you don´t wait to find out of someone is guilty, because I saw Neal and he has been crucified. If we don´t do anything about it, he will surely die. If he hasn´t already. He was in bad shape when I left him.”

“Wait, why wasn´t I informed?”

“I guess, nobody was. The Pharaoh was furious that Neal had betrayed him, but he hasn´t. I found a piece of Roman tunic on the scaffolding where Neal was working when the accident happened. I´m sure he was not involved.”

“OK, come with me, I know of a way.”

Peter quickly followed Mozzie back to the palace. He didn´t see Keller watching him and Mozzie.

 

* * *

 

“My lord.” Mozzie bowed before his master.

Peter had been surprised that Mozzie was granted access to the pharaoh without question. Now they were standing in front of him.

“Master, it came to my attention that you punished Naeia for this hideous crime. However, in name of our Roman guest, I ask if you are willing to grand your slave manumission. Naeia didn´t attempt to kill you, he was used. I can appreciate the sentiment that an example must be made, but I think it was made. You know Naeia would never harm you or your family. I beg you for mercy. Our guest volunteered to take him to Rome.”

As they spoke Egyptian, Peter was not able to follow the conversation, but he could see that the Pharaoh seemed surprised by the request Mozzie had made, but contemplated it.

“Why would you want to do this?” he asked Peter in Greek.

Peter gave him a questionable look. What had Mozzie asked? When he glanced up at Mozzie, he intervened.

“My Master wants to know why you would save a slave that threatened his life.”

“I am convinced that Naeia did not betray you, your Highness. He was set up. And I intend to find the man who did attempt to kill you.”

“You sound sure of yourself.”

“Yes, my lord, I am sure, that is why I ask you to save your slave´s life.”

“OK. I will spare him if you give bring me the man that attempted to kill me in return.”

“Thank you, you are truly a great ruler.” Mozzie said before gesturing to Peter to leave the room.

The pharaoh dismissed them with a wave of his hand and Peter and Mozzie took their cue and left.

“What happened in there?” Peter stared at Mozzie.

“You better know who did this, because it is the only way to save Neal´s life.”

“What do you mean?”

“Neal doesn´t have much time, the Pharaoh will only spare his life if you bring him the man who did this to him.” Mozzie quickly walked off.

Peter quickly followed behind him.

“What? I don´t know who did this.”

“You don´t have any clues? You told me you found a piece of tunic.”

“Yes, but I don’t know who the tunic belongs to, it is a generic piece of cloth, it could belong to any of my party, even myself. If I did know who did this, I would punish the person myself.”

“Concentrate, Peter. Neal is hurt and needs our help. Pray to your Gods that he will survive this ordeal. We need to bring the person who did this in front of the Pharaoh.”

Mozzie quickly made his way over to where Neal was tied to the stake with Peter in his wake. When they arrived at the place, Peter´s breathe stocked. Neal was hanging in his restraints, still unconscious. His skin was now red from sunburn and his lips chapped. The whipping had left thick oozing welts on his back.

“Do you have a knife?” Mozzie asked Peter.

“If we do this, we will have to run. We will have to leave Egypt” Peter warned Mozzie.

“If you run, I run.”

“Then let´s run.” Peter said firmly.

Peter pulled out his pugio and cut Neal down, who fell to the ground as Mozzie couldn´t keep him up. Mozzie realized they couldn´t carry Neal, so he told Peter he would find something to transport Neal.

When he came back he was accompanied by several slaves who carried Neal to the temple. He was placed on Mozzie´s bed. Mozzie instructed the slaves to fetch supplies, water, and to get a doctor.

Peter just watched the proceedings. There wasn´t much he could do, he didn´t speak the language and didn´t have any connections. He carted his hand through Neal´s hair, but he didn´t stir.

“It will be OK, Neal, you will be OK.”

He stood up and looked around for Mozzie, who had left the room. When he met him in the corridor, he told him that he would find a solution.

“Mozzie, take good care of him. I will be back soon.”

“I will, Roman.”

With a last glance of Neal, Peter left the temple.

 

* * *

 

Peter´s mind was made. He needed to make sure Neal was safe. Even if it would jeopardize his career. Well it wasn´t a question if it would jeopardize his career. He would be lucky if they both made it out alive.

But he just couldn´t let Neal die in these conditions, knowing that he didn´t do anything, except being naive.

He walked into the stables and luckily there was nobody. He readied two horses and took some ropes. He put water and food in the saddle bags and took the horses to the temple.

When he walked in, Mozzie met him.

“How is he doing?”

“As well as can be expected.”

“Do you have messengers around?”

“Yes, we have, why?”

“I need to get a message to my wife, she needs to leave Rome and go to our home up North, I don´t know what the repercussions will be and I need her to be safe. I won´t be able to travel as fast as a rider alone, so I need to warn her.

“I will do it myself, Roman. How can I convince her that I speak for you. Does she speak Greek?”

Peter took off his ring and gave it to Mozzie.

“Yes, she knows Greek. Give her this and tell her Azaleas. She will know the message comes from me. Accompany her to my house up north. She knows how to get there. Tell her to take the servants as well, she has a bodyguard, his name is Maximus, he will make sure she is OK. I will meet you there.”

“OK, give me the address where I can find her and I will leave immediately.”

Mozzie turned away to leave but Peter stopped him.

“Why are you doing this?”

Mozzie studied Peter´s face.

“We slaves have to stick together. There is nothing that binds me to Egypt, but Neal is family to me. And one should protect family. But if you don´t mind… What are your motives?”

“I don´t know, he just brings up something in me.”

“Yeah, he does have that tendency…”

Mozzie told two servants to carry Neal to Peter´s horse. Peter got on it and then pulled Neal up towards him with the help of the two servants. He set him in front of him and asked that they tie them together, so Neal wouldn´t slid of the horse. Peter thanked them and drove off. He needed as much distance between the palace and themselves if they were going to have a chance.

 

* * *

 

Keller fumed. The leader of the Roman party, Peter, had found out that the slave didn´t do it. It had been such a good plan.

Keller had received payment to kill the Egyptian Pharaoh. His patron had made sure that he could join the Roman delegates that would visit Egypt. He had been thinking on how to kill the Pharaoh, but all his plans could be filed away when he saw the Pharaoh´s slave. He was the perfect scapegoat.

He had befriended the slave, well maybe befriended wasn´t the correct term, but the slave had been trained well and didn´t want to offend his Master´s guests, so he had Keller allowed on the scaffolding.

For some reason the slave had good reflexes and had been able to warn his Master, but still he had been dragged away and nobody had climbed the scaffolding, so nobody had seen him.

When the coast was clear, He had left the building and saw that the slave had been sentenced already by being crucified. He couldn´t have planned it better himself. The slave would be death and nobody any wiser.

 

So Keller was extremely surprised when he saw Peter cutting the slave free, he was accompanied by the Pharaoh´s priest. He had to make sure that the slave wasn´t able to tell Peter who was with him on the scaffolding. He followed them but was even more surprised when he saw Peter and the slave ride off. And not much later the priest left as well.

He quickly took his horse out of the stables and decided the follow Peter. He had to make sure that the slave kept his mouth shut.

 

* * *

 

They had to get as much distance between them and the palace. Neal had taken a turn for the worse during their flight. They rode for hours and by the time Peter thought it safe to rest for the night, Neal had developed quite a fever. He kept telling Neal he was going to be OK. He knew he would need to give Neal time to heal before pushing on. Peter could feel the heat radiating from Neal which was not good at all. At some point Neal started mumbling during their escape from the palace, but he was too occupied to stay on his horse with Neal bound to him to listen what Neal was saying, he was probably ranting in his fevered dreams.

When Peter found an abandoned shed, he decided they needed to stop for Neal´s sake. When he stopped his horse, Peter realized there was no way he was going to be able to let Neal down gently. He untied the rope, holding on to Neal with one arm. The moment Neal sagged forward; the pain probably wakened him more, because he tried to fight Peter off and tried to get away from Neal. Peter couldn´t hold on to him and he fell off the horse. Peter quickly jumped of his horse and rolled Neal on his stomach He then placed his woolen cape on the floor and rolled Neal on top of it. . He must have been knocked out by the fall, because he didn´t react at all to Peter´s jostling.

Peter walked back to his horse, tying it to the shed and taking the saddle bags off it. When he came back inside, Neal had reached consciousness on some level. Barely conscious, he kept mumbling. Peter fed him water and then decided he needed to leave Neal to get supplies. As much as he hated to do it, he tied Neal´s ankle with a piece of rope to a metal ring in the wall. He couldn´t have Neal leave the shed in his fevered condition and wander through the dessert. It would certainly mean his demise.

There was a well next to the shed and Peter pumped up water for his horse. He quickly pulled off his tunic and washed himself and let the tunic to soak. The front was completely smudged with blood and gore from Neal´s back. Luckily he had a clean tunic in his saddle bags.

In the village, Peter found what he was looking for, boots and clothes for Neal. He figured the boots would prevent people to see the tattoo. Peter made sure to buy Neal clothes that still made him look like a slave. He bought himself clothing that wouldn´t make him stand out in the crowd. Eventually he also found acetum (acid vinegar) to clean Neal´s wounds. Silphium to get Neal´s fever down and some willow. With the same merchant he found black ink. Peter quickly made his way back to the shelter where he left Neal.

Neal, in the mean time, hadn´t really moved, Peter could feel the heat pouring from his body which was a very bad sign. Peter had seen men succumb to fever. He wetted a piece of cloth and placed it on Neal´s forehead and in his groin.

With the ink he had bought, he drew the mark that represented ´tax paid´ on Neal´s neck. It was visible and Romans and Greeks would know the mark. He would re-colored it every night so it didn´t fade. It was the best way to protect Neal and to explain why he didn´t speak the language. With Neal´s beauty it would be obvious why he served and conversation would not be high on his list of abilities.

Peter prepared himself a simple meal and placed himself next to Neal. That way he hoped he would wake if Neal stirred.

During the night, Neal started fighting Peter in his fever induced delirium, the first hit had made contact as Peter had fallen into a deep sleep and he hadn´t woken from Neal´s movements. Peter started worrying when he could get Neal to wake up. If he couldn´t get the fever down, they wouldn´t be able to travel.

Eventually Peter decided that the only way to protect Neal was to restrain him so he wouldn´t hurt himself.

“You´re going to be fine, Neal, but you have to fight.”

Peter cleaned the wounds again with the acetum. He boiled the willow and fed the infusion to Neal. It tasted bitter, so it took quiet some work to get it in him but it would serve as an antiseptum and a sort of painkiller.

Neal stilled after that and Peter lay down next to him again. Whenever Neal started stirring and pulling on the restraints, Peter spoke soft words to reassure Neal.

“Shh Neal, you´re safe.”

But Neal never answered, not aware anyway. He talked in his fevered delusions, but it really didn´t make much sense to Peter as it was all in Egyptian.

 

* * *

 

Four days had passed since they had fled the palace and Neal still had to regain full consciousness. He had woken before but was never truly aware of his surroundings.

Peter and Neal were still sleeping when Peter woke because his horse whinnied. He stayed where he was and listened. He could hear someone sneaking around. He slowly removed his sword from its scabbard and very quietly got up. He moved over towards the door of the shed, when a man came bursting through. Peter was surprised by the viciousness of the attack but stood his ground. It took him a moment for him to realize who had attacked him.

Mattheus Keller, one of his delegates. He was the one that tried to kill the Pharaoh.

But he couldn´t think more of it, because Keller was already advancing, forcing Peter to retreat deeper into the shed. Peter knew, he had to get Keller outside, his chances inside the shed were much slimmer as he was tall; his height was a liability here in the shed.

“I have no quarrel with you Peter; just let me finish the slave, that is all I am asking of you.”

“You know I can´t. You are the one responsible for the attack on the Pharaoh. Neal is already punished more than he deserves.”

Peter countered the attacks, but Keller was able to block the blows. They struggled until suddenly Keller was able to hit Peter´s arm. Hard.

Peter dropped his sword at the fierce pain that radiated from his arm. He could smell his own blood and could see the smirk on Keller´s face.

“Really Peter, you’re getting old. Being a delegate made you weak. You are not the same man that led armies into battle.”

Keller saw his chance and advanced towards Neal, ready to plunge his sword into the man. Peter could feel his blood rushing through him as rage swept through him and he propelled himself at Keller, who stumbled and missed Neal.

Neal hadn´t stirred at all during their short fight.

When Keller turned round, Peter had already picked up his sword and started advancing on Keller so he was forced out of the shed.

Once outside, they started fighting in honest, but Peter was able to get in a few good blows. Peter, being the taller and broader man had longer arms which he used in his advantage.

When Keller gave an opening in his defense, Peter took it and stabbed his sword. He instantly knew he hit Keller good. He could see it on Keller´s face and he could see it on the amount of blood that poured from the wound.

But Keller was still fueled by adrenaline and quickly jumped on his horse and rode off.

“This is not over Peter.” He shouted.

Peter collapsed in the dust. He wasn´t getting any younger. Keller had been in very good shape, but Peter had the advantage of being more experience in warfare and the battlefield.

Peter made sure to cover the blood with sand. He then washed himself and checkout the wound on his arm. It was fairly deep, but he would live. It wasn´t something he hadn´t had before during battles. So he tore his old tunic in ribbons, disinfected the wound with the acetum and dressed it.

He sat up some time to let his nerves calm down and to see and hear if Keller had been alone or was coming back, he entered the shed again and dropped down next to Neal. He was out almost immediately.

 

 

* * *

 

Neal heard a deep voice talking to him, sometimes in Greek, sometimes a Latin, sometimes in a language Neal didn´t understand. He was hot and thirsty and everything itched and hurt. What had happened? Where was he?

He moaned against the pain but startled when something wet was placed against his lips. He slowly swallowed the bitterness and steadily the pain faded to the background.

He felt hands on him, but not in a sexual matter, they took care of him. The hands gave comfort.

When he got a bit clearer, Neal realized he was not in his bed in the palace, he was lying on some dirt floor. It was hard and smelly. He tried to open his yes, but for some reason, he couldn´t.

“Neal?”

He could hear the male voice, but it was not Master, Master always addressed him in Egyptian, and called him Naeia. He listened to the voice. It was gently and reassuring. He felt safe, so he let himself fall asleep.

Sometimes he woke, because he felt something wet on his neck. He once tried to bat it away with his hand, but a big hand, held his and continued on his neck.

 

* * *

 

Peter slowly nursed Neal and himself back to health. He kept cleaning the wounds on Neal´s back and eventually the infections resided and slowly but surely they healed. Peter was sure Neal would have permanent scars from the whipping. The wound on his arm would also leave a scar; that was for sure.

One morning, Peter entered the shed and two blue eyes followed his movements.

“Neal? You’re awake. Welcome back.” Peter smiled a genuine relieved smile.

“… ‘ter.” Neal croaked.

“Don´t talk. Here let me get you some water.”

Peter left the shed to pump fresh water. When he came back in, Neal had fallen asleep again. But this was progress, if Neal was able to stay awake, they could travel again.

Peter would go out hunting and make some sort of stew of whatever he had caught. It was time to re-color the tattoo and Peter dreaded the action. Until now, Neal had been unconscious or asleep when he had done it, but since Neal was awake more, he would have to explain what he had been doing. And he was not sure how Neal was going to react.

“Neal?”

“Yes Master?”

“Do you remember that I drew something on your neck?”

Neal thought about it and had some vague recollection of it.

“I drew a slave mark on your neck, it is to prevent that questions about you are being asked. This way, you are marked as my slave. I only did it to keep you safe.”

“Oh.”

“Yes, once we are in my country this will not be necessary, but here, people will still recognize the tattoo on your ankle. We can hide that one with boots, but that doesn´t explain why you don´t speak Latin.”

“I am grateful that you saved my life Master, It will be an honor to be your slave, Master.”

“Well, that is not what I meant, but thanks, I guess.”

Neal mourned his old life, but he was grateful to Peter for saving him from certain death. He was now in debt to Peter and promised to make it up to him.

 

* * *

 

After two weeks Peter thought it would be save to try and catch a boat to Carthage or Utica. From there they could make the crossing to Narbonensis (Southern France). He was very aware of his surroundings as he was not sure whether or not Keller had accomplishes or had told the Pharaoh where he was going. But nobody else turned up during their journey, and once they were on board of a vessel, it would be difficult to locate them.

The wounds were healing nicely and Neal felt better, but was still easily fatigued. It didn´t take Peter long to find them passage to Utica and they boarded the boat. They had sold the horses earlier. These horse were OK in the warm climate, but once they would travel more North, they would need animals that were used to the cold. And Peter didn´t want to take the chance something would happen to them while they were sea going. It was easier to sell them and buy new ones once they were back on the main land.

The weather was nice and warm and Neal was found most of the time lying on the cushions on the deck of the boat. The winds were in their favor and the sail boat made good progress. Peter was more concerned about the crossing of the Mediterranean. There were risks for storms and there were no ports available and there was always a risk for running into pirates.

But that would be concern for later. Peter had to learn Neal basic Latin and his native Germanic dialect. He would start with the basics.

 

* * *

 

Once they arrived in Utica, Peter started looking for passage to Narbonensis. Meanwhile they rented a room in an inn. It was very basic, but Peter had to make sure his money lasted. Once they were in Narbonensis he could withdraw money from a bank. But until they were at the main land, he needed to make his money last. Neal had the appearance of a lost child. It was obvious that he enjoyed the new scenery and everything that happened around him. He was fascinated by the different people and customs, but he was also at a lost many times. He wasn´t used to do things for himself, well basic things, like cooking, cleaning, washing his clothing.

In the morning Neal woke by first light, he freshened up and saw there was a new tunic placed in his room. He put it on together with his boots and walked out to the patio.

Peter was already sitting at a table having his ientaculum. Neal sat down with him and was offered what looked like bread with fruits and honey.

“Let´s go to a bath house later today, we earned it after such a journey.”

“If it pleases you Master.”

Neal followed Peter to one of the local bath houses and entered. It wasn´t some much different than the ones in Egypt, although there, he was bathed in private and here the baths seemed to be open to everyone.

Peter started undressing, so Neal did the same. Neal enjoyed the view, Peter looked gorgeous, he had the body of a warrior, toned and lean. He had body hair, but not much. It intrigued Neal. His Masters in Egypt always removed all their body hair. Another thing that drew Neal´s attention, were the scars on Peter´s body. It was obvious that he had been in battle.

Peter smiled at Neal and dove into the pool. Neal wasn´t sure how deep the pool was, so he hesitated. He couldn´t swim. At first Peter didn´t understand why Neal didn´t join him, until he figured out that he had never seen Neal actually swim, only bath. Peter swam back to him and whispered in a quiet voice. “It is not deep, you can join me.” Peter made a mental note to teach Neal how to swim.

So Neal did, the water was a welcomed refreshment after the hot streets of the city and the days they spent on the boat. But Neal hadn´t counted on the saunas. Peter walked from room to room and every room they entered was even hotter than the previous one. Neal was glad when Peter suggested that he would get a massage, so Neal could leave the sauna. He was massaged and rubbed with a soapy substance. The slave that was massaging him took a strigil and scraped the dirt off of him. He was then told to take a plunge in another pool, which turned out to be cold water. But Neal had to admit, it was very refreshing.

When he was clean and relaxed, he walked to a part of the Baths where he could get refreshments, but Peter called out to him. Peter told Neal they would get something to eat outside the baths, so Neal went back to get dressed.

 

* * *

 

Peter had taken Neal to a local inn and ordered them something to eat. Neal was clearly hungry and looked eager when the food arrived.

Peter had noticed some men looking at them. They were probably ill at ease with a master treating his slave as an equal. Involuntarily Peter´s eyes moved to his neck where he had drawn the tattoo. But it was still visible and in good shape, so Peter didn´t worry. The men would see it and he would make his claim if necessary.

Peter started eating and wished Neal a good meal. While Neal was eating, Peter studied him. He was getting tanned; his pale skin was slowly getting an olive shine to it. It made his blue eyes stand out even more. He looked gorgeous, his hair was growing and he looked healthy. But it was also apparent something was bothering Neal, but he tried to keep it from Peter. He would tell Peter that he was fine, but Peter knew better, there was a certain tension in Neal, and he needed to find out what it was.

Neal noticed that Peter was staring at him.

“I always taught Romans ate lying down.” Neal snickered.

“They do, but only on formal dinners, at home, they like to enjoy eating in the garden, if the weather permits. But I´m not Roman. Where I come from, we eat sitting at a table.”

“When are you going back to your home country?”

Neal was afraid of the answer. He had no clue as to what Peter would do with him. And he dreaded to take care of himself as he had never needed to take care of himself. There had always been slaves and servants to tend to his needs. Neal had done nothing but create art. Sure, Peter had taught him to take care of things such as washing his clothes or to prepare basic foods. But still, how would he earn money?

“If I can find us passage, we will be leaving.”

Neal heart eased, apparently Peter wasn´t planning on leaving him here alone. He felt a weight being lifted of his chest.

 

* * *

 

They were still sailing along the coast when Peter left Neal alone on deck. He wanted to talk to the captain. He had an uneasy feeling that he couldn’t explain. He hadn´t told Neal as he didn´t want to upset him.

He had just arrived below deck and asked the captain if he could see the maps, when there was commotion on top. And without warning he could hear Neal´s cry for help.

“PETER! HELP!”

Peter sprinted up the stairs just in time to see Neal being pulled overboard by a man. Peter remembered from their day in the baths that Neal couldn´t swim. Peter released his belt with his weapons and jumped overboard. As they were still close to the coast, the water was not deep. Peter looked around, his eyes stinging from the salt water, but quickly located Neal.

He swam towards Neal and approached him from behind as he was kicking to get back to the surface. When he grabbed him from behind, Neal started struggling in earnest, probably thinking it was his attacker.

Peter swam as fast as he could, back to the surface. Once they were back up, he turned Neal so they were facing each other.

“Neal, it is me, Peter. You´re OK. I´ve got you.”

Neal coughed and spat out water before he roughly asked.

“Peter?”

“Yes, It´s OK. We wait here, I will keep you floating, just stay still. The boat will pick us up, see, it has lowered his sails and is already turning.”

“It will not be able to pick us up.” Neal wheezed.

“Calm down, you´re safe. I have you.”

Neal stayed still.

“I really need to teach you how to swim.”

Neal didn´t say anything, by the look in his eyes, he was never going to come near water again, Peter realized.

Once the boat had turned and picked them up, both men were bundled in warm blankets. The captain told Peter that the man responsible had last been seen swimming towards the shore.

“Did anyone see what he looked like?” Peter asked the crew.

“It was the man who was with me on the scaffolding.” Neal whispered.

“Keller!”

“Is that his name?”

“Yes, that is his name, he is the one responsible for the murder attempt on the Pharaoh.”

“Well, there is nothing that we can do right now. The only thing we can do, is hope that he won´t follow us up north.”  

“Tell me Peter, why did you save me?”

“I knew you couldn´t swim.”

“No, I mean in Egypt. You could have easily let me die and you would not be a fugitive on the run.”

Peter didn´t answer immediately.

“Well?”

“It was just not right. You had nothing to do with the crime and were sentenced to death for it. That didn´t seem fair.”

“Well, fair has nothing to do with it, but, I just don´t get it. You are a Roman delegate and I am just a slave.”

Peter took Neal´s hand.

“You are not just a slave, you understand. You were born a free man. You are a free man. Do you understand?”

Neal just stared in Peter´s eyes.

“If you say so.” He muttered under his breath.

“I say so. You are so much more Neal, you are a very talented artist for one. But we will figure it out later. Come let´s rest, it has been a stressful day.”

 

* * *

 

After a non-eventful but successful crossing of the Mediterranean, they arrived in Narbonensis and made their way up to Germania on horseback. They had been on the road for weeks now. Neal was almost completely recovered and was strong enough to ride the bigger, sturdier horses they had bought when they arrived on the main land. And as Peter had though, Neal was highly intelligent, picking up whatever Peter wanted to teach him. Neal had a gift for languages and soon was speaking Latin and the Germanic dialect of Peter´s hometown.

“Naeia, what does it mean?” Peter wondered while they were resting in an inn.

“It means _One who dazzles_.” Neal explained.

“What a fitting name.”

Peter could see Neal blush.

“No, you really are gorgeous, you remind me of the Greek statues I encountered while visiting Greece.”

“You traveled a lot, tell me about the place where we are going.”

“Well, we will travel up north to where I live. It is a small village near Langobardi. We live on a large farm and raise cattle. But I must warn you. It gets cold there in winter. By the time we arrive, winter will be there.”

“What is winter?”

“You will see, in this part of the world, we have four different seasons. One is cold, one is warm; the other two are the transitions to them.”

“I would love to see where you live.”

“I guess you do, but rest now, you are still not completely healed and I want you to build up your strength, you will need it for the last part of our journey. It will become colder soon.”

“Yes, Master.”

“Neal, how many times have I told you, I´m not your Master here, in the other countries it was a necessary cover, but here, nobody knows what the tattoo represents. And soon you will need to wear warmer clothing and you will be covered up almost completely.”

“But you are my master.”

Peter could see that Neal was still very insecure about his status. But he would get used to it. Peter would make sure of that.

“Go on, rest.”

“Yes, Peter.”

 

* * *

 

Once they arrived in the Germanic speaking parts, Peter was more at ease. He was now back on familiar territory and spoke the language. He had been backtracking their progress but hadn´t see any sign of Keller.

But since autumn was already advanced, it was getting colder and wetter. Neal was truly miserable. He wasn´t used to the cold and dampness and he was constantly cold. Peter had bought himself and Neal a wool tunic that reached up to their knees. Underneath Neal wore a linen tunic, it had been expensive, but Neal was so cold, Peter feared he would never be able to warm up again. The under tunic kept him both warm and it made wearing the wool tunic more comfortable against his skin, as he had never worn wool before, he had never worn full body concealing clothing and complained that it itched. Peter had bought some trousers but for Neal they had built-in socks. Even with a wool cloak, Peter could still see that Neal was not comfortable. With his thin frame, they had to be careful that he didn´t get sick.

Peter hadn´t redrawn the tattoo anymore. Here, Neal could become whoever he wanted to be. He didn´t need to pretend. But Peter realized that it was a sort of protection for Neal. He didn´t know better so for now it was better that they would pretend to be master and servant.

The more north they came, the colder it became and they reached a point where Neal was constantly shivering. Peter had bandaged Neal´s lower legs with wool leg wrappings; it protected his legs but also gave warmth. He had also bought a fur cap with ear flaps. He himself, being used to the climate only wore a leather cap, as it provided protection from branches an leaves they encountered in the rides through the woods. He had never made his body tender by wearing too much clothing, as nobody in his clan did. They were warriors, before anything else, Peter never forgot that, even when he was send to serve the Roman army by his father. When he was younger, he had seen it as a punishment, now that he had aged; he understood that it had been a learning experience. The Romans had better weapons, better knowledge of how to fight wars, and now, Peter had that knowledge to.

They entered a village and they stopped at the local inn.

“Welcome travelers.”

“Can we stay the night, me and my servant? We will need our horses being taken care for and would appreciate if you could provide us with a bath.”

“Of course sir.” The Inn keeper called his son and he brought the horses to the stable.

“Come Neal, let´s get you to the fire and warmed up.”

The Inn keeper brought some beer, bread and sausages.

“Can we get a bath?” Peter inquired.

“Of course sir, it wil take some time to warm the water, but we can arrange it.”

“Make it so.”

Peter pushed the plate with food towards Neal.

“Eat Neal, you are still not on your fighting weight. You need to eat.”

“Yes Master.”

They enjoyed a pleasant meal, Peter told Neal about his life in the Roman army and his life prior to it. By the time they were ready, the wife of the inn keeper came to tell them the bath was ready.

When they entered the room where the bath was located, it turned out to be a large copper tub; it was large enough for the both of them.

“You go first Neal, I will bath when you are done.”

“No Master, we can bath together. The water will be warmer.” Neal looked sincerely at Peter.

“Are you sure you don´t mind sharing the bath with me?”

“No, absolutely not, it will be my pleasure to bath you.”

Peter looked up to see if Neal was being honest but as far as he could tell, he was. The look in Neal´s eyes was grateful, respectful.

So they undressed and Peter took Neal´s hand and led him into the tub. The water was hot, it bit too much to Peter´s liking, but Neal seemed to soak up all the warmth, and color returned to his face. Neal picked up the cloth and kneeled behind Peter´s back. He started rubbing Peter´s back and then bent down to wash Peter´s chest.

When he was done, Neal sat down and asked Peter to lie down so he could wash his hair. Peter did as he was told. It was a bit uncomfortable as he had to bend his legs, but once Neal started washing his hair, he closed his eyes and focused on the feeling of Neal´s fingers on his scalp, his strong fingers massaging. He could feel his arousal growing and felt a flush creeping into his cheeks. But then he felt Neal getting hard as well. Neal must have noticed because he placed a chaste kiss on Peter´s lips.

“No, Neal.”

“I´m sorry Master, I…” Neal pushed Peter up and wanted to leave the tub, but Peter held on to him and guided him back down.

“No, that is not what I meant, you didn´t do anything wrong, but…”

“But you are married.” Neal finished the sentence.

“Yes, I… I ´m attracted to you, I was from the moment I saw you sitting at the pharaoh´s feet, but I can´t, I don´t want to take advantage of you.”

“Of course not Master. Your happiness is my happiness.” Neal said a bit unsure.

Peter could feel the strings in his heart being pulled. This must be so hard for Neal. Being wrongfully accused of trying to kill your Master. Being punished for it to a point where you were nearly died and then sort of being kidnapped to a different country that was so different than what you knew.

He sat opposite to Neal in the tub and gently washed Neal who was still staring at the water.

“I will take care of you Neal. I promise.”

“Thank you Master.”

When the water started cooling, they left the tub and went up to their room. A fire was burning and the room was warm and cozy. Neal´s face paled a bit when he saw the blanket on the floor. Apparently servants slept on the floor.

“Neal, you are not sleeping on the floor.” Peter reassured him quickly and gently pushed him towards the bed.

Peter got into the bed and pulled Neal with him. He placed Neal on his side with his back towards him and spooned Neal. Neal felt tense, but once Peter held him firmly, Peter could feel the tension slowly draining from Neal.

With the beer and the warmth from the bath, it didn´t take long for Neal to fall asleep. Once his breathing evened out, Peter let himself being pulled down into sleep as well.

 

* * *

The next morning Peter woke to an empty bed. Neal must have gotten up early. Peter quickly pulled on his clothes. He sort of recoiled from his own clothes, they smelled. They really needed a clean set, but it wasn´t far anymore to home, so Peter wanted to push on. They would have breakfast and then get back on the road again.

Peter walked down to the tavern, but Neal wasn´t there.

“Have you seen my servant?”

“Yes, I think he went to tend to the horses, I saw him go outside.”

Peter walked out and heard commotion near the stables and sprinted towards them. He heard Neal talking very fast in Egyptian.

“What the hell is happening in here?”

Neal was being held against the wall of the stables by two men. He was clearly in trouble. The two men were a lot bigger and bulkier than he was.

“Mind your own business, just keep walking.” One of the men growled.

“I can´t do that. If you have a quarrel with my servant, I am responsible and will take care of it. So if you would be so kind to let him go.”

The man grabbed Neal had pulled him towards him, so he could use Neal as a shield. He held his dagger against Neal´s throat.

“Go away! We have no problem with you, we just want him, pretty little thing as he is. Keller never told us he was this good looking.”

Neal´s eyes widened at the words. By now he understood most of the Germanic language.

“Like I said, I can´t let you have him. I am responsible for him. I strongly urge you to let him go.”

The atmosphere got more hostile and Neal swallowed heavily when the dagger was pressed harder against his throat.

“Peter? What do they want?” He asked in Greek. He gambled that the men didn´t speak Greek. Peter had explained that some people would be able to speak Latin, but Greek would be less common.

“Speak Germanic.” The man growled in Neal´s ear.

“He doesn´t know how to, he is a servant, he is not educated. What do you want?”

“We just want him, go on your way and everybody will be happy.”

The second man creeped up on Peter, but he was aware of the guy and Peter was fairly confident he could take him. The man suddenly attacked but Peter was prepared and engaged him. The man was smaller than Peter, but heavier built. Peter ducted under the first hit with the dagger and hit him square in the face. The man holding Neal grabbed Neal tighter in surprise. Neal let out a strangled gasp as the man pinched his throat just a tad closer.

“Get him Dirk.”

Dirk turned back towards Peter, wiping his mouth. He had lost his dagger when he was hit in the face and he tried to locate it without losing track of Peter.

Peter needed to end this quickly. He didn´t want Neal to get hurt.

“Let him go, you won´t get away with this and I can´t let you have him. This is something between Keller and me.”

The man made his second attack and again, Peter was able to deflect the energy against his opponent. This time the hit stunned the man and he didn´t get up immediately. Peter grabbed him and pulled him up.

“Do you want your men to die, Keller? If your men hurt Neal, you will be next.”

“Are you threatening me?” the nasal voice of Keller came from the shadows of the stables.

“No, I´m making a promise.”

The man glanced unsure up to Peter and his escape route.

“Tell your man to let him go and I will allow you to leave unarmed.” Peter promised.

Quick as lightning the man let go of Neal, who dropped to the ground, and sprinted out of the barn, leaving his accomplish with Peter.

Peter waited for Keller to appear, which didn´t take long.

“So, I must admit you are quite the tracker, who knew you had such a talent?” Peter sneered.

Keller didn´t say anything but immediately brought down his sword. Peter had expected it and defended himself.

“Get out of the stables, Neal, go back to the Inn.”

Neal scrambled to his feet but didn´t want to leave Peter alone with Keller. But it was also clear to Neal that Keller was younger and fitter than Peter, although he was the better swordsman.

Keller and Peter were engaged in battle and didn´t pay attention to Neal, who had found a piece of wood. When Keller was looking away from him, he hit him in the back, distracting him. That gave an opening in his defense, Peter took it and plunged his sword in Keller`s chest. Peter knew that this time, his strike was fatal when he saw the surprise in his eyes when he slowly dropped to the ground.

Peter stood next to Neal panting.

“Are you OK?”

“Sure.” Neal coughed a bit.

“Come back inside, so I can check you out.”

The son of the Inn keeper had seen the commotion and informed the local lawspeaker. He demanded to know who they were, what their business was in his town and what had happened. Peter explained to him who he was and what had happened. When the lawspeaker heard who Peter was, he told him to go back inside and enjoy his breakfast. He would take care of the ambusher and the body.

Neal glanced questionably at Peter.

“What just happened?”

“What do you mean?” Peter faked innocence, but he knew Neal would never let it go. He sighed before saying “My father is the chieftain of our clan.”

“What is a chieftain?

“It is like a leader, they used to be selected and appointed by the clan, but now it is hereditary.”

“Wow. You really are someone important.”

“Not until my father dies and I hope that that day will be far away.”

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

When they had left the last tavern, Peter stuffed hay into Neal´s boots to keep his feet warm. Once they were home, he would ask El to needle knit him some wool socks, as socks were expensive to buy, so they would have to do with hay.

After the incident, Peter had insisted they travel as quickly as they could to his hometown. But it was also clear that they couldn´t camp outside. Neal´s body just didn´t seem to be able to adapt to the cold and dampness, and Peter didn´t want Neal to get sick. So they stayed with friendly farmers or small inns. Now that they were getting closer to home, Peter told Neal he wanted to push on until they were home. He promised Neal a warm bath and bed and all the food he could eat to fatten him up and make him be able to withstand the cold.

Once they could see the farm, they were greeted by several big dogs that were happily barking and running next to Peter´s horse. When they arrived at the house, a servant was already waiting to take their horses.

“Master Peter, welcome back.” He man said, he was elderly. Neal felt at ease, it said something about Peter, most owners sold their servants when they were getting older. Apparently Peter didn´t. The farmhouse itself was not big, not compared to some of the estates and the palace Neal was used to, but it was a large farm compared to the other families that lived in the area that Neal had seen when they traveled. It was certainly more than Peter and El needed.

The moment Peter got of his horse, a female voice called out.

“Peter? PETER!”

A woman with long brown hair and blue eyes that matched Neal´s came running outside. She ran straight into Peter´s arms, who picked her up and twirled her around. Neal recognized her from the statue he made. She did really resembled the statue.

“Oh, hon, I missed you so.”

They kissed and Neal looked away discretely. He started petting the dogs that walked circles around their masters and Neal, they wanted to join all the commotion. El let go of Peter and studied him from a bit further. “You look good. And you brought a guest. Mozzie told me all about him.”

“Yes, this is Neal, we met in Egypt. Where is Mozzie by the way?”

“Welcome Neal.” El said in Greek, looking appreciatively of Neal.

At that moment, Mozzie appeared in the door of the farm, his hands still white with flour. He had been helping out in the kitchen by the looks of it.

“NEAL!”

Mozzie grabbed Neal in a bear hug.

“You are alive!”

Neal could see the tears in Mozzie´s eyes.

“Yes, Peter took good care of me. He nursed me back to health and helped me escape. Oh Mozzie, it is so good to see you.”

Peter and El let go of each other and started walking back indoors.

“Come in, it is warmer. Let me get you refreshments. You both must be exhausted.” Elizabeth said to both men.

The fire was burning and it was warm and homey inside. And it smelled divine. Both Neal and Peter´s stomach growled, making El laugh.

“That bad, hé? Did Peter feed you at all, you look skinny Neal.”

They first freshened up a bit while the staff prepared the table. Peter sat down on a stool at the head of the table, before taking the cup of beer and toasting with Neal and Mozzie. “Welcome in my home. It has been quiet the journey”.

Neal enjoyed the food that was served, even though it was a bit strange to him, the last couple of weeks their food existed mostly of milk, cheese and meat, things they ate in moderation in Egypt. There were almost no vegetables and fruits here, especially now that winter was upon them. Mozzie explained that he had tried to get foods they were used to, but he hadn´t found any yet.

 

* * *

 

Later that night, Elizabeth prepared a bath for Peter. The tub stood in a small room next to the kitchen, so it held the warmth of the kitchen. Peter could hear Neal and Mozzie talking in Egyptian to each other in the kitchen. It was good to see Neal´s face brighten up, now that he was reunited with Mozzie. Peter had explained to Neal, early in their journey that Mozzie would be at his home, but it was of course a leap of faith for Neal. He couldn´t know if Peter was telling him the truth or not…Even peter didn´t know if Mozzie had been able to reach El and get her up North, but he obviously had. He had to give the little priest credit.

Once Peter was in the tub, El joined him and Peter couldn´t help himself, but he hadn´t seen El in years and now here she was in his arms. He started kissing her and pulled her against him.

“Oh El, I missed you so much.”

El giggled, she pulled Peter up and quickly dried him off and pulled him through the other door to their bedroom. Once Peter was lying on the bed, El mounted him and it didn´t take long for Peter to come.

“I´m sorry hon, I will make it up to you. It has been too long.” He said a bit embarrassed.

“Oh hon, I know, you are back now, that is what is important.”

“Would you like it if Neal joined us?” El asked.

Peter looked up in surprise.

“Neal?”

“Mozzie told me he was a slave of the Pharaoh and his wife. And that he wasn´t only kept because he is a talented artist. I didn´t know what to expect, but now that I have seen him… Peter, he is gorgeous. Mozzie also explained that Neal always had a bed companion in Egypt. That he never slept alone, he must be lonely and cold.”

El snickered at the last word, remembering how miserable Neal had looked on the horse, even with all the warm clothing. It have been an adaption for herself, to come back home after spending so much time in Rome.

Now that El mentioned it, it all made sense to Peter. That is why Neal slept fitful when he had to sleep alone. If Peter didn´t join him in bed, he was restless and woke up a lot. He would always settle once Peter joined him.

“I know, it did take all my resolve not to cheat on you and to stay away from him.”

“Oh honey.” El giggled. “Let´s invite him to our bed tonight.”

That night, when everybody went to bed, Peter walked up to Neal´s bed. As he expected, Neal was still awake, shivering under the thick blankets. El even had a fur placed on top of him. Peter took his hand and led him out of his room. Neal was glancing around in nervous anticipation, but didn´t say anything. Once he was lead into the master bedroom, he stopped before the bed, eying El in it.

“It´s OK, Neal. Come and join us.” El held out her hand.

Peter gave him a soft push towards his wife and Neal shyly took El´s hand and climbed into their bed. Peter climbed in behind him.

Neal crawled into El´s arms and let himself be huddled. With Peter behind him. Neal started sobbing. All the tensions of the last couple of months were unleashed.

“Shh, it´s OK, Neal, you are safe, you are with us now. You are with family.”

Neal nodded trying to get his breathing under control.

He was safe. He had found a new home. It was cold and wet and the food was not what he had expected, but the company… the company made everything perfect. He truly was with family.

 


End file.
